


Amethyst Saga 3: Dangerous Liasons

by marysiak



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2020-07-30 11:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20096512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marysiak/pseuds/marysiak
Summary: Crossover with Anne Rice's vampire books.





	Amethyst Saga 3: Dangerous Liasons

**Author's Note:**

> Note from banshee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Underground](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Underground_\(Labyrinth_archive\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Underground’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/underground/profile).

The idea behind the Labyrinth and the character of Jareth belong to Henson  
Productions Inc. The vampires Lestat and Louis belong to Anne Rice and  
Random House. Amethyst and this story belong to me. This story contains  
explicit sex please do not read it if you are under 18.  
  
  
The Amethyst Saga by Amethyst  
Dangerous Liasons  
  
  
It was a full two days now since the night of the ball. All of the  
day before Amethyst had waited in anticipation of the coming night for  
Jareth to come to her. Only to finally fall asleep alone late in the night.  
The pleasure he had given her yesterday morning had only left her wanting  
more, yet he had never so much as removed his shirt. Teasing her, covering  
her with kisses. Even now she would swear she could still feel the velvet  
of his mouth moving across her body.  
  
But he was gone.  
  
This morning she had gone searching for him, no longer so willing  
to wait on his pleasure, only to be told he had left yesterday. Without  
telling her he was going! Gone riding out past the borders of the Labyrinth  
on yet more urgent business. For some reason she had always thought being a  
despotic and powerful magician ruling over a kingdom of dreams and fantasies  
would be less hard work than it seemed to be. But any realms beyond the  
Labyrinth had meant nothing to her then and now it seemed there was a game  
with complex and ordered rules being played out between the many kingdoms  
within this fairytale place. And one of them was Krondor? It didn't make  
any sense. But then it didn't have to did it, it was magical.  
  
But all that was beside the point. She was lonely and she wanted  
Jareth to come back. Just when she thought she was starting to figure  
things out a bit he had disappeared on her. She needed to spend time with  
him to understand what was happening between them.  
  
She lay back on her bed, dressed in a voluminous and very  
comfortable white cotton nightgown, and contemplated her room. For lack of  
the ability to do anything more constructive in her current mental state.  
It wasn't really her room, it didn't even seem particularily feminine. All  
dark wood and dark red velvet curtains and what not. In decor it was in  
fact very much like Jareth's study, which was down the hall past his room.  
Jareth's room, which she had snuck into out of curiousity the day before  
the ball, was actually more like she would have furnished a bedroom. Though  
too austere.  
  
His room was a mixture of white and pale blues and greys, the  
occasional touch of a purple tone. There were two full length windows  
with white frames and long white layers of curtain hanging from dark wood  
curtain rails. The walls were also white, the floor the same dark polished  
wood as the curtain rails and the bed, which dominated the room. It was a  
mammoth four poster, beautifully but simply carved in smooth clean lines.  
Where she would have pictured dark red velvet curtains and black silk sheets  
were billowing layers of white and winter blue and dove grey and misty  
purple drapes, each seperate layer thin enough to see through. The bed  
sheets were simple white cotton with a huge feather filled duvet. She had  
climbed into the bed and felt as if the duvet would swallow her whole, like  
a child. There were a few paintings on the wall in dark wood frames, a vase  
here, a small statue there. But on the whole the room was bare apart from a  
large wardrobe, a chest of drawers and a full length mirror. She had studied  
herself in it, wearing the shirt she had taken from his wardrobe. And then  
she had forgotten her theft as she, despite her protestations, had gone  
through his chest of drawers. Rings and chains, letters (which she had not  
read) and pens, stones and pinecones and conkers, socks and gloves and, yes,  
underwear. It had been hard to picture, Jareth King of the Goblins wears  
underwear. It was like realising that Captain Kirk went to the bathroom.  
But there they were, pair upon pair of cotton jock straps. Well, she  
supposed, what else could you wear under tights. In truth she had embarassed  
herself by her curiosity and had shut the drawer, reprimanding herself.  
  
But right now she found herself contemplating returning to his  
room. Though not to paw through his underwear. Just to sit in the bed for  
a while.  
  
Her room did not have a four poster bed. Though it did have tall  
wooden bedposts that reached to her height when she stood up. The wood in  
her room was redder than that in Jareth's. The bedsheets white cotton but  
the duvet cover dark red. The carpet too was red as were the velvet  
curtains. She wondered if this had been perhaps a small library before she  
had come here, quickly converted to accomodate her nearby. The bathroom  
certainly gave every impression of being brand new, right down to the  
inside walls amd door. She got off the bed and sat down on the carpet  
touching it with curious fingers. Had this too been part of Jareth's rooms?  
Library? Drawing room? Dining room?  
  
She sighed and laid her head down, studying the pile of the carpet  
mindlessly. It was getting late.  
  
When the door knocked she almost jumped out of her skin. Jareth?  
"Who is it?"  
  
"Message m'lady."  
  
It was just a goblin. She sat up on the carpet. "Come in."  
  
The door opened and a semi-presentable goblin came into view.  
"His Highness, Lord Jareth, requests your presence in his study  
immediately m'lady."  
  
"He's back!"  
  
"Yes m'lady." The goblin looked nervous. "He said immediately  
m'lady. You know immediately that way he says it that means... well...  
*immediately*. M'lady."  
  
"Yes, yes of course." She stood up and left the room trying not to  
walk too fast down the hall to the door of his study. The goblin kept up  
with her and knocked imperiously on the door before she could.  
  
"Yes?" came the sharp answer from inside.  
  
The goblin opened the door and started to speak. "Your maj..."  
  
"Yes, yes. Shut up and let her past then go away." Somebody wasn't  
in a great mood.  
  
She slipped past the goblin, who closed the door behind her with a  
slightly aggrieved bang, and went over to Jareth. He sat in the armchair by  
the fire with his muddy boots up on a low table, he was holding some papers  
he had evidently started reading. He smiled at her as she entered and that  
was enough to relax her. The door to his room was open and through it she  
could hear a bath running.  
  
"I must apologise for leaving so suddenly, but it was important and  
I didn't want to wake you so early."  
  
"That's okay, it really doesn't matter," she answered untruthfully.  
He smiled, he looked tired.  
  
He reached out and stroked the back of her hand, taking it in his  
own he kissed it thoughtfully. "Go and watch my bath," he ordered. Then  
turned back to his reading.  
  
Getting a little used to his dismissive manner she left obediantly  
and passed through his room to enter the steam filled bathroom. She sat on  
a stool next to the bath and watched it fill, wondering whether there were  
goblins in the depths of the castle shovelling coal into boilers to heat  
the water. Probably.  
  
She sang softly to herself,  
"For if my love were an earthly knight,  
As he is an elven brave,  
I'd not change my own true love  
For any knight you have."  
  
She wondered if she could talk Jareth into a CD player, she'd need  
to talk him into electricity first. The lights were candles or oil lamps  
and the heating consisted of coal fires and a form of central heating, pipes  
filled with hot water circled the rooms at ankle height. She dipped a finger  
into the water, it was hotter than she would run but probably about right  
for most. The water neared the run off and she reached over and closed the  
taps. She went back through to the study.  
  
The set of his mouth betrayed intense irritation at what he was  
reading and rather than interrupt him she knelt down on the floor by his  
chair and waited. She knew he was too observant not to have seen her come  
back in. He shifted his legs slightly, knocking crumbs of dried mud from  
his boots onto the fine finish of the table. Hoping she was doing the right  
thing she moved to the table and began to take off his boots, he ignored her  
but did not obstruct her. When she had them both he spoke, "Put them outside  
the door."  
  
She did so then returned to his side. As he read he reached out and  
tangled his free hand in her hair, pulling her head against his leg. She  
relaxed against him. He smelt of sweat and horses, though not unpleasantly.  
She'd never figured out people's obsession with smelling of strange chemical  
substances instead of themselves anyway. There was a difference between  
having a smell and being smelly. She wondered why she always ended up  
contemplating the psychology of humanity instead of just thinking something.  
Then she wondered why she then always seemed to end up contemplating her  
own psychology. Then she buried her face in his leg and told herself to  
shut up. Quit over-thinking life she told herself sternly.  
  
Before long he threw the papers in the rough direction of the table  
muttering in disgust, "Petty, simple-minded fools..."  
  
He stood up and stalked through to his room. She was left half-  
kneeling and wondering if she was supposed to follow him or not. Her  
question was answered with his irritated, "Well, come on."  
  
She stood up and hurried through. He stood waiting in the bathroom  
and as she entered he indicated that she should undress him. Her observable  
hesitation was minute but her mind just about tripped over itself. She was  
supposed to do what? She'd never even seen him topless before and he wanted  
her to undress him for his bath? Was this supposed to be foreplay or was  
he just so used to having servants do everything for him he didn't even  
think about it? Who did this before she got here? The goblins? Ander?  
  
As her mind raced through these questions she remained outerly calm  
and began to unbutton his waistcoat. She focussed on the clothes instead of  
the man, as a result missing his amused expression, and wished she knew what  
she was supposed to be thinking. She moved behind him and slid the waistcoat  
off his shoulders, folding it and placing it on a nearby chair. She came  
back and began to unbutton his shirt, slowly revealing smooth, pale skin  
overlying the muscles of a practised swordsman and archer. Not bulky like  
the muscles of a man who trains just to get something to show off but the  
slimmer shape of someone who got their muscles by using them. She was  
shocked enough to look up into his face on revealing a silver ring piercing  
the skin of his right nipple. He smiled at her expression.  
  
"Even a Goblin King once had a misspent youth." But there was a  
bitter edge to his joking tone.  
  
She quelled the urge to touch it and continued until she could  
remove his shirt and place it with the waistcoat. She felt slightly faint,  
the bathroom was too warm and she was already dizzy with both desire and  
the uncertainty of what was happening. Going for the safer option she knelt  
at his feet and removed his socks. Then she took a deep breath to steady her  
nerves and rose up onto one knee, her head level with his waist. She  
undid the button at the waist of what appeared to be a cross between  
leggings and jodphurs, unzipped them gingerly and drew them down his legs  
revealing a bulging white jockstrap. It might have helped her nerves if she  
had been aware just how much effort was being put into keeping what the  
jockstrap contained from escaping. She put the leggings aside and reached  
for the waistband.  
  
It wasn't that she had never seen a man naked before, for she had.  
But this wasn't her Dad, this was Jareth and it wasn't even vaguely the  
same. She drew them down revealing him fully. She knew if she started  
looking too carefully she'd never get up so she bit her lip and turned  
away, placing his underwear with the rest of his clothes and standing up  
again before she turned back.  
  
He was already stepping into the bath and she caught a heart  
stopping view of his backside before he disappeared into the water,  
sliding right underneath. When he surfaced again a few minutes later she  
was amazed by how different he looked with his hair darkened and slicked  
back by the water. He smiled at her, looking more relaxed than she had  
ever seen him.  
  
"Sit down," he said. Gesturing to the chair she had sat in before  
while waiting for the bath to run. She sat, watching him from the other  
end of the bath. "I heard you singing something earlier," he continued.  
She looked suprprised by the acuity of his hearing. "Sing it for me."  
  
"I... I don't remember it that well," she said.  
  
"Then sing something else," he insisted.  
  
She thought for a second, then sang,  
"I left my baby lying here  
Lying here, lying here.  
Left my baby lying here  
To go and gather blaeberries."  
  
He nodded appreciation then began to wash his hair as she sang on.  
  
"Hove n hove n gorrie-o go  
Gorrie-o go, gorrie-o go.  
Hove n hove n gorrie-o go  
I never found my baby oh.  
  
I searched the moors n tarns n then  
Wandered through the silent glen  
Saw the mists upon the fen  
But never saw my baby oh.  
  
Hove n hove n gorrie-o go  
Gorrie-o go, gorrie-o go.  
Hove n hove n gorrie-o go  
I never found my baby oh.  
  
I heard the curlew crying far  
Crying far, crying far  
Heard the curlew crying far  
But never heard my baby oh.  
  
Hove n hove n gorrie-o go  
Gorrie-o go, gorrie-o go.  
Hove n hove n gorrie-o go  
I never found my baby oh."  
  
He smiled, "An old tale, many times true." He rinsed out his hair  
and stood up, reaching for the soap. "Sing me another."  
  
Faced with his naked body, glistening with running water, she was  
hard pressed to remember any song. But she managed,  
  
"Rain comes from the east one night,  
We watch it come.  
To hang like beaded curtains  
Till the morning sun."  
  
The ability to breathe left her momentarily as he began to soap  
his body slowly and with intent to distract. His eyes never left her.  
  
"You with raindrops on your nose,  
Water dripping from our clothes.  
Ask me sadly, please don't go away love.  
Till the rain is done, I say I'll stay love.  
  
Rain outside but inside we don't mind at all.  
Shadows by the fire slowly climb and fall.  
Kisses fade and leave no trace  
Whispers vanish into space..."  
  
He reached his crotch and she forgot the words. He slowly stroked  
himself to attention, she couldn't tear her eyes away. Why must he keep  
teasing her like this, she already wanted him. He would drive her insane at  
this rate.  
  
With a small smile of satisfaction he dropped back into the water  
and proceeded to lie there ignoring her for the next ten minutes. Then he  
opened his eyes and ordered her to fetch him a towel. He stepped out of the  
bath and taking the towel rubbed his hair briefly only to reveal it almost  
completely dry. He was obviously using some sort of magic. He threw the  
towel to her and indicated she should dry the rest of him.  
  
As had happened with his hair she only had to pass the towel over  
his skin and it was dry. She did his back first then up his legs and  
skipped his crotch to dry his chest. Finally he took pity on her and took  
hold of her hands, taking the towel from her. He really shouldn't tease her  
so, but it was so easy and so enjoyable. But it was late and he was tired  
and right now what he most wanted to do was kiss her. So he did. She  
responded passionately, hardly surprising given his behaviour. He dropped  
the towel and wrapped his arms around her, one hand tangling in her hair  
while the other squeezed her ass, pressing her against him. She hooked one  
foot round his leg, pressing herself closer yet.  
  
Eventually he broke the kiss and looked at her. "I have never met  
a woman as innocent and yet as willing and surprisingly able," he told her  
with a smile. Then in one swift movement she was over his shoulder and he  
strode through to the bedroom and dumped her on the bed. Then with a sigh  
of relief he dumped himself on the bed too, he really was tired and his  
legs ached from hours of riding. He could almost fall asleep right then if  
it weren't for the persistant throb between his legs.  
  
He rolled on his back and pulled her against him, head on his  
shoulder, one leg over his with her foot stroking his shin, one hand on  
his chest with her thumb idly brushing over his nipple.  
  
So young, so eagre to please. He felt the need to talk to her, to  
giver her some idea of what she was getting herself into. He spoke quietly,  
half to her and half to the ceiling. "Amethyst," he savoured her name.  
"You should know your life here will not be the fairytale dream of teenage  
girls. I am a selfish, and perhaps even evil, man and I will not pretend  
otherwise."  
  
She was silent and still. He turned over to her, reversing their  
positions. He stroked her cheek. "I have had more time and more power than  
any man deserves and in that time I have done things that would shock you."  
  
Finally she spoke. "If you are so evil then why are you telling me  
this, why warn me."  
  
"I don't know." He looked away. "I would like to give you the fairy  
tale. Just as I wanted to give Sarah hers, but she saw through me and left  
while she still could. What I would like to do and what I will do are not  
one and the same, I cannot change who I am." He looked back at her. "I don't  
know why I warn you, for even if you were to take heed and chose to leave I  
do not think I would let you go." He ran his hand over her body, still  
covered by her cotton nightdress. "You said it yourself," he looked at her.  
"You belong to me." He looked oddly upset by this. "Such an odd dichotomy,"  
he said aloud to himself as he watched his hand circle her breast.  
  
She wasn't sure what to say. "I belong to you," she repeated. Not  
so much an affirmation as simply to listen to the sound of it.  
  
"Yes." With a casual gesture he took hold of the neck of her night  
gown and ripped it open as if it were paper. He took hold of her exposed  
nipple in his teeth and bit down on it, eliciting a gasp of pain. Then he  
rested his head on her exposed chest, his breath tickling her.  
  
He lay there long enough that she thought he was falling asleep  
before he moved again, taking her hand and drawing it down between his  
legs. He rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him as he pressed her  
fingers around his erect penis. Taking her lead from him she took hold of  
it, the skin was velvet soft over the hardness within. She stroked him  
running her fingers up over the head. She slid down, laying her head on  
his stomach to finally study his erection in the light of the bedside lamp.  
She sat up and swapped hands so she could slide the other between his legs  
to cup his balls, rolling them in her hand. He made a small, appreciative  
sound. Bringing her face closer she rubbed her cheek against his shaft  
finally running her tongue up the underside slowly and then taking the  
head into her mouth. She closed her lips around him, running her tongue  
around and over the head. She could taste an odd salty, bitter,  
indescribable taste. His hand was on her head urging her to take more of  
him into her mouth.  
  
God, it felt good. It had been years, he hadn't touched a woman  
since Sarah had rejected him. Sulking as much as anything. She began to  
move faster, taking him in to the back of her throat, and he let go off  
coherent thought.  
  
She had never realised this would be so tricky. Making sure he  
didn't hit that part of the back of her throat and set off the gag response,  
especially now as he started thrusting into her. But despite that it was  
oddly gratifying. Feeling him growing in her mouth, hearing his breath  
quicken, the urgency of his hand tightening in her hair. She threw all her  
concentration into it, one hand on his balls and the other on his slick  
shaft to make up for the length that wouldn't fit into her mouth. Careful  
of her teeth, pressing her tongue flat against the underside of him and  
then flicking it over the head. It wasn't much longer before her mouth  
was filling with salty liquid, she closed her lips around him and sucked  
gently, swallowing it all down. Finally she relaxed between his legs, her  
head resting on his hip, his penis resting against her face.  
  
Eventually he reached down and took her hand, pulling her up to  
rest against her shoulder and tugging the duvet over them. He switched out  
the light and they settled down to sleep. A few minutes later he whispered,  
"You belong to me."  
  
"Yes," she answered.  
  
\------------------  
  
She woke in darkness still, too hot and tangled in her nightdress.  
She slipped carefully out of the bed and straightened the torn gown. She  
went over and opened one of the full length windows quietly, stepping out  
onto the balcony overlooking the gardens. She had no idea what time it was,  
the night was clear and cool but not cold. The moon was high and the stars  
brilliant. As the light breeze ran over her exposed breast she realised she  
was still aroused. She sighed, the man was impossible. She leant against  
the balcony, propping her head in her hands, only to discover she smelt of  
him. A wild, incredible arousing scent that covered her hands. She bumped  
her head lightly against the wall in frustration. She climbed up and lay on  
her back on the wide stone wall and tried not to think about Jareth, the  
stone was cold through her nightdress. She was suddenly reminded of Louis  
lying on his back on the balcony after making Madeleine for Claudia. Oh  
great, just what she needed, to start thinking about vampires who had not  
only turned out to be real but also to be far more attractive than their  
movie counterparts. I mean being more attractive than Tom Cruise wasn't  
hard, but being more attractive than Brad Pitt just shouldn't be allowed.  
It was mental cruelty.  
  
"Now, now," said a faintly French voice. "One cannot be held  
accountable for the fickle hand of nature."  
  
"Oh God," she groaned and rolled face down onto her stomach.  
"Lestat, please go away before you wake up Jareth."  
  
"Now, really. Is that polite? I was just passing by when I heard  
my name flit through your mind, so I dropped in to say good evening." A  
hand ran across her back. "You know you are going to catch a chill lying  
out here on this uncomfortable piece of rock."  
  
She only had time to bash her forehead once against the cold stone  
before she was being rolled over and lifted into perternaturally strong  
arms. He carried her down the balcony and into her own room. Maybe if she  
just ignored him he would go away.  
  
"Ah cherie, I can be very difficult to ignore."  
  
"Quit reading my mind you insufferably attractive fiend you," she  
muttered. He laughed and closed her door.  
  
"Come now, you can hardly hold me responsible for the fact that you  
find me attractive. Nor can you blame me for your current lack of satis-  
faction." He sat her down on the bed and reached out to brush her exposed  
nipple. "Why whatever happened to your gown?"  
  
She blushed and batted his hand away, covering herself with the  
loose material. "It got torn."  
  
He leaned closer, pushing her hand aside and scrutinising her  
breast. "Why those look rather like teeth marks," he remarked, giving her  
an incredibly evil look.  
  
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked. "Why does everybody seem  
to have this sudden urge to drive me completely insane?"  
  
"I don't know what you mean."  
  
"Tell me, is there anyway of getting you to leave without waking  
up Jareth?"  
  
"Now my lady Amethyst, surely you wouldn't do that."  
  
"He'd kill you, you know."  
  
"Well, he'd certainly try."  
  
"You're impossible!" She stood up and went to lock herself in the  
bathroom, but before she could get more than a step from the bed he had her  
by the arm and flat on her back on the bed.  
  
"I really did just come to say hello you know," he said, his eyes  
glinting. "But I can see it is more than just a chat that you want."  
  
"No I don't!"  
  
"Ah, but yes you do. You cannot lie to me, cherie, I can read your  
mind. And let me tell you, I find it absolutely fascinating." Holding her  
down with the weight of his body, pinning both arms above her head with one  
hand he ran the other down her body and pulled her gown up to slide his  
hand underneath.  
  
"Lestat, please. If I admit that I want you will you leave me  
alone?" she pleaded. "Then yes, I want you."  
  
His fingers ran between her legs, brushing over the swollen lips  
of her pussy. She couldn't help but moan, her body desperate for his touch.  
  
"I'm afraid not, cherie. You see I am quite aware that Jareth has  
taken certain... liberties with someone very dear to me. So I can hardly  
let this opportunity to repay him slip through my fingers. Not that either  
of them would admit it of course. Just as you will not admit to this and he  
will know by the way we look at one another but never be able to prove it.  
He pressed his hand against her, lowering his head to suckle on her  
exposed nipple.  
  
She sighed softly, knowing her body would not let her turn back  
now. "You don't mean Louis do you?" she asked.  
  
"Oh yes, I most certainly do. Louis and his good and dear friend  
the Goblin King. If I could read either of their minds I would know for  
sure, but I cannot. But I know all the same."  
  
The thought of Louis and Jareth together ran through her entire  
body, finishing with a pulse of desire between her legs.  
  
"So that turns you on does it? I might have known. You and Jareth  
will make quite the couple when you get a little more experience under  
your belt." He laughed. "So to speak."  
  
He reached down and unbuckled his belt and with a few swift  
movements he secured her wrists to the bedpost. He ripped her gown open  
the rest of the way and then he was pushing her legs further apart as his  
fingers began their work in earnest. She strained against him as he brought  
her to a very satisfying orgasm. Then he untied her wrists and let her  
cover herself again. He caught her by the hair and kissed her deeply before  
standing up and striding to the door. "Don't worry my dear, I wouldn't  
steal your virginity from you. But I will be seeing you again and next time  
I will not be so restrained." Then he was gone.  
  
She sat, clutching the remains of her gown to her, for nearly half  
an hour. Then she pulled herself together and got up, she should be angry,  
she should be upset. She should tell Jareth. But she wasn't and she  
wouldn't and there wasn't really anything else to think. So she threw the  
ruined gown away and went back to Jareth's room. Climbing back into bed  
with him she thought, I guess he isn't getting the fairytale either. I  
wonder if he really did sleep with Louis?  
  
After an hour she finally managed to fall back asleep.  
  
(c) copyright Marysia Kolodzej, 1998


End file.
